Be All My Sins Remembered
by melraemorgan
Summary: A tag to the aftermath of Doranda. Warning filled with angst and a character death.


A/N: This is a tag to the aftermath of Doranda. Warning: serious angst and character death.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I think it's not fair since they don't seem to want them.

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Somewhere in a dark and empty part of the City lay a soul suffering. His failure ringing in his ears, the consequence painted upon the void. He was the destroyer of worlds. His hubris was not in believing that he would succeed where Titans had failed; it lay in his belief that he was loved, that he could find a haven from his wounds, and that he could be forgiven. His mistake was ever venturing out of his fortress, seeking to be accepted, yearning to see the unobstructed sky, to taste freedom. He should have kept his dreaming small and kept his heart impenetrable but he chose chaos over safety, and now his weakness drove him to the inky solitude of the night. The Universe had given him an elegant way to end his farcical existence; just by denying himself, sustenance of the earthly kind would free him from his emptiness, and his aching desire to be wanted. The journey to oblivion began with illusions, and would end aided by them. He only had to appear to be fine, look as if he was partaking, and in just a day he would be in the half-life between existence and dissolution, in another day he would cross the terminus, it wouldn't be long, and he would be freed from the burden of being Rodney Mc Kay.

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The man he saw in the mirror was alien to him, when did those lines appear? When did he become so careworn? He couldn't hide from the flash of anger lingering in his eyes. The culpability lay with that insufferable man. How naïve of him, a seasoned warrior, to allow his trust to be so manipulated, to look the fool for supporting a mad and arrogant man's judgment. The mirror held no answers; he would leave that to his dreams, to another night of ghostly planets crying out for justice. Spectral bodies clothed in the black robes of space, spinning around him in a dance of recrimination.

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The night held no comfort for her, she longed to be absolved and given freedom from her sins, freedom from the scent of blame. She abdicated her rationality for sentimentality, she chose badly. The duo of warrior and scientist standing in the gap of destruction no longer held fast, the connection that once safeguarded them all, was torn asunder with her sanction. The binary bodies, once a pas de deux, began their solo, decaying in orbit, each aflame with the friction of mistakes and buffeted by the winds of guilt. Soon there would be nothing left but small traces of the miracle of their partnership, mere shadows on a barren world, and she the queen of a wasteland. There would be no sleep for her majesty this night.

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A thought, meandering through his subconscious, stumbled into the light, and woke him from his idealist fugue. The repercussions of the breathtaking annihilation of five planets, were stalking them all. Someone had to pay, the cosmos demanded it, and mere mortals who dare to toy with sacrament of extinction must atone, and offer their own sacrifice. The healer came to himself, and a bolt of revelation split the night. There would be a sacrifice, the one culpable would set things aright the only way he could. By embracing his damnation and relieving them all of his shame he would heal the broken trust. Rodney's ultimate contrition would cleanse his corruption from the galaxy, so righteousness could rein once more. He would die, alone and desolate to satisfy the debt his vanity created.

It was the dark of night and the city slept. The physician, found himself searching for the poor shattered fool. Every haunt, every hiding place was devoid of the man he sought. The doctor had nowhere left to look; his heart ached with each passing moment. The clock taunted him. He was at his end, he needed help.

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He dreamt of flying with his pigeons, free from the gravity of human life. He dreamt of holding her in his arms, his unattainable love. He dreamt of the stars, of equations, of mysteries and answers. His dreams turned to the unfathomable power unleashed by the hand of a genius without the sense to accept his limits. The new dream wrested the poignancy of gentle yearnings from his mind, and forced upon him the unwanted scrutiny of the nature of power and knowledge. This vision refused to let him turn away from the blast that blew away five worlds. Its silent violence spread out into space pushing away their confidence in the man who's mind was meant to save them all, and in that terrifying moment Rodney McKay became inherently dangerous. He wasn't dreaming anymore, he reached for his glasses. Within minutes, he exchanged his bed and good dreams for a panicked run through the empty halls, searching through hidden labs and unexplored sections, for his fractured friend. Rodney was not to be found. The dreamer needed help seeking the lost wretch.

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The queen gave over to the voices in her regal brow and arose to find her errant scientist. Her belly told its own tale, twisting itself into knots of worry and spasms of concern. The humming quiet of her kingdom soothed some of her distress; the city held them all in her warm embrace even the pariah. The sinner needed to be absolved, his fragile spirit would break under the weight of his failure, and be crushed into dust by the derision and ire of his erstwhile best friend. It was her queenly duty to assure both men that she bore the responsibility, that for the sake of the people of Pegasus they must reconcile. In moments, she stood before the doors of her knight, waving her hand to elicit the friendly chime. The doors slid open immediately. He was dressed and ready to begin his own search for his hurting friend. The look of fear mixed with regret on his impish face left no need for explanation. Without a word, the two started their quest to return the equilibrium of the City by going to Rodney's room. They waved their hands repeatedly but his door remained unanswered. The knight prised the doors open with his mind and found the room empty. It was not unusual to find Rodney's room empty. He was a night creature he enjoyed the muted sounds of the City at night. There were no people to bother him while he worked, often staying for days when he had an interesting challenge. The duo rounded the corner to find the doctor looking distraught. The bespectacled scientist came out of the lab as the knight and queen approached.

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The fugitive began to tremble, his heart fluttered around in his chest, and he was covered in a sweat. He was slipping into the blackness of unconsciousness; well on his way to never feeling the pain of existence again. This thought made him feel content and the thought he might be free from the sorrow of being reviled by those he loved, gave Rodney the ability to clasp death's hand. He could surrender to his oncoming coma without hesitation. And in a few moments Rodney McKay, physicist, head of the Atlantis science division, and former team member to SGA-1, drifted farther and farther down into the cool numbing abyss of his coma, praying to never wake up.

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Radek found Rodney first. The scientist was covered in dust, and comatose. Carson sprang into action before realizing his patient had stopped breathing and had no pulse. John fell to his knees next to Rodney and gripped his cold hand in his and begging his friend not to leave, he pulled Rodney's body into his arms, and cried out his apologies.

In the end, it was too late. The astrophysicist, the engineer, and all round pain in the ass, died in the arms of his best friend. The sobs of all those assembled were loud and painful to hear, but nothing would dissuade Rodney from giving up.


End file.
